I am really glad I decided to review Schulz and Peanuts: A Biography
by David Michaelis. I had known a bit about Schulz in the past, in that he was
somewhat a reclusive and quiet person, as well as melancholic. I had also
wondered to what degree Charlie Brown played a part in being Schulz’s ‘alter
ego’, and now after having read the book, I see how much a part his personal
life made its way into his comic strips. Schulz, despite being a notorious
self-doubter, knew from an early age that he wanted to be a comic strip artist.
After having spent several years struggling to get his work out there—he
slowly built an audience, and then after enough time, an empire worth over a
billion dollars by the time of his death. The truth is, the only other artist to
rival him was Jim Davis’ Garfield, that Schulz described as “the
ugliest, most insulting, and vicious” character he’d ever seen. Truth be
known, in the strip’s early days, no one knew what to make of Charlie Brown.
His strips provided little life anecdotes as well as philosophy, and there had
not been anything like it before or after. Schulz actually detested the name Peanuts
for his strip—for it was one that had been chosen for him, as if to imply
‘little people’. Schulz disliked it because he thought it would not only
trivialize his strip, but confuse people as well. And for the first few years,
that’s just what it did.

Schulz, the son of a barber who owned his shop in St. Paul, Minnesota,
was someone always struggling to please people, despite never feeling recognized
for his accomplishments. His mother, as well as very few members of his family,
never encouraged him to pursue his art. And this only led to a build up of
resentment within the young Schulz. Before his mother’s death, however, she
informed her son that if they ever got another dog, that they should name him
Snupi—which is a Norwegian term of endearment.

The narrative is full of lots of little insights as that—such as where
he got the names for his characters, what people they were based on, etcetera.
But it should also be noted that Schulz himself did not think of himself as an
‘artist’ but actually as someone who did not fit in anywhere. Even into his
old age, and despite his wealth, he still felt short-changed and unhappy. When
older, and asked if he had achieved something of greatness, Schulz replied with,
“No…because I know that I am not Andrew Wyeth. And I will never be Andrew
Wyeth.” He then went on to say, “I’ll never be an Andrew Wyeth and
that’s kind of sad. I wish that what I did was fine art, but I doubt it is.
It’s well researched and authentically drawn, but I do not regard what I am
doing as great art. Comic strips are too transient. Art is something so good it
speaks to succeeding generations…I doubt my strip will hold up for several
generations to come.”

He was certainly someone who seemed to recognize art and how it works,
and by no means was he a pretentious person. He was competitive and ambitious,
yes, but he could recognize just where comics fell on the spectrum. Many of his
critics accused him of becoming ‘watered down’ as the strip aged—falling
more into formula and repetition. The book is littered with Peanuts
strips, from the very young to the very last. In the beginning, you can see the
1950s influence lingering, both in the drawings themselves and the subject
matter. As the strips go on, more cynicisms emerge, the characters are not
afraid to address topics such as loneliness and alienation. Snoopy then becomes
the lead character, surpassing Charlie Brown in later years. The book also
details much of the merchandise that resulted—from sweatshirts to lunchboxes,
all which had his characters’ faces upon them.

Another interesting aspect the book mentions is how when Schulz came out
with his Charlie Brown Christmas special, the executives did not like it.
They hated the jazz soundtrack, asking the question, ‘what kids’ show has
jazz piano music?’ They also disliked the fact that there was no laugh track,
they found the biblical references ‘heavy handed’, as well as the story
being more of a ‘downer’ than something cutesy and happy. Ironically, it is
for these very reasons (or lack thereof) why the cartoon is such a lauded
classic among fans. I remember seeing Charlie Brown pick that little Christmas
tree and how he puts the ornament on it and it keels over. And then Charlie, in
his self-deprecating manner states how he can’t do anything right.

I think part of the strip’s success lies in the fact that these are
kids who don’t necessarily talk like kids. They seem to have to same
frustrations that adults do—feeling lost, disconnected, unloved, lonely,
etcetera. Just hearing myself describe the strip in this manner would make
someone want to ask, ‘and this is a comic you’re talking about?’
That’s the funny part. It is. It is all these things and yet when you read it,
it’s not in anyway depressing. There was just something about Charlie Brown,
or as Linus tells his friend, “For a nothing, Charlie Brown, you’re really
something!”

Although this biography is well researched and includes numerous amounts
of pictures of Schulz from young to old, most of the text is spent discussing
Schulz’s career and motives into his work rather than the minutiae of his
divorce and his affair with another woman. Those issues are of course covered,
but they are not the main focus. The only other thing I would have liked to see
in this bio was more of Schulz’s early drawings. Michaelis talks about how
“his laborious pencil sketches of posed models were pat and unoriginal.”
While I certainly can take his word on it, I would like to have seen some of
them. Sort of when one reads the life of a poet and the biographer discusses the
poet’s juvenilia in this same manner, it helps if the reader can see for
himself. Overall, anyone interested in Peanuts or the life of Schulz
should give this book a read. It is not plodding, but is something fresh and
unpretentious, and something that can give your memory a whirl. For a biography
Charlie Brown, it really is something!